Anarchy - Oneshot
by assassinfaith2001
Summary: A simple game of hide and seek, but one may perish when caught.


**October, 2026**

**California**

Warmth aided the chill of her hands; scarlet covering every inch of skin - like a laced glove - but unlike a glove, this warmth was thick. Carried a dreadful odor that burnt her nostrils. The blood traveling into every crevice of hands that were calloused. A color brilliant in a magnificent shade of red. However… an unsettling feeling erupted in her stomach. Bile rising up to reach her throat and empty the contents of the last thing she ate. God… why is this bothering her? The killing alone didn't seem to strike her until it continued to claw at her mind. Filled with fear and retching guilt.

Flashes of what occurred came in full whiplash - the flesh, pierced and broken - steel meeting skin, crimson seeping to the soft ground from the wound. Kept on flowing and flowing, never to stop like an endless river. With guttural sounds that suddenly erupted from the victim; blood bubbling from his lips as he began to suffocate. Though the youth walked away, sneering at the site. Hell, this incident was provoked; so she acted on self defense. The damned fool deserved it!

_Your fault!_ Her mind hissed, caressing Miriam in an odd way, enough to abandon her sorrows and replace it with loathing. Her hands decorated with split knuckles, curling and uncurling into fists to match with the chanting. _Your fault your fault your fault you- _

A gunshot echoed the clearing; thundering with the heartbeat drumming against Miriam's ribs. Her eyes scanning for a silver lining of movement. Thus, the sky began to leak in tears for this unfortunate turn of events… So, what did Miriam do next?

She ran like Hell.

Delirious from pain and hunger, it was difficult to remain focused without slamming into another tree or meeting the chilled fury of a running stream. Sunlight dancing on her darkened, chestnut hair. Matted and tangled from the dried bits of gore and mire, an ache began to settle in Miriam. Foreign, so foreign that fatigue clouded all senses. With a harmful tremble that caused her teeth to chatter, as if ice flowed through Miriam like the blood in her veins. Gave her the revelation that she might perish from hypothermia instead of a bullet to the head, starvation or practically anything else.

"Come on - _dammitdammitdammit!_" Miriam muttered; near the brink of madness and even screaming out of frustration. Though madness and frustration put aside, the end of a gun met her head. Spots of darkness swam in her vision, aided with a harmful kaleidoscope of red. Which meant that the gun must of applied enough pressure to pop a vessel in her left eye.

Suddenly lifted with ease; Miriam was pressed up against the soiled ground - a knife now dangerously too close to her throat, glinting from the torch of firelight nearby.

"I got the little hellhound!"

"More of a damned she-devil if you ask me, a lucky kid who ran into us instead."

Miriam became frozen in place, never daring to move an inch.

The older woman who claimed she was lucky removed the hood that darkened her face; only to reveal a young woman in her early twenties. With sickly light hair that remained bound by a leather strap, transcending into an unruly braid. Miriam then noticed the blood plastered on the woman's forehead - a symbol she was all too familiar with.

"Been tracking you for a week at the most. Gave us quite a bit of trouble if you ask me…" The woman said, her voice coated with horrific calm, that it made Miriam's insides twist with anguish.

"Glad I gave you the trouble!" Miriam snapped, annoyance and fear glazed on every word.

A fist connected with the side of her face; initiating a reddened welt to form, felt so sore and it burned enough to have Miriam clutch her cheek, as if that would numb the pain.

"Have some respect! Wait - you know what, you're _this _close to having _this_ knife slice your throat… _this close!_" The woman was beyond livid. The kind of anger that terrified Miriam to an extent that she never understood and never wanted to feel. Instead she curled up into a ball, the impact of the punch alone left the battered youth on her side.

"Drug her, then take her to the Eastern District; once she wakes, give her some of the rations we have leftover."

"God Lilith… we're not wasting what little food we have on the bra-"

"I don't care! And how _dare_ you question me? I need this girl alive, but throw her in the pit with the infected if she's no longer of any use to me." She paused. "Or if you prefer, starve the she-devil."

So this _Lilith_, is the leader who tracked her with these men, maybe a leader of a whole community.

Oh how the youth suddenly grew an infuriating hate for Lilith. Leading to the temptation of this devilish path; hating someone who easily prefers to have her perish. If anything, Miriam desired the idea for any form of malice to occur on the woman.

Before long Miriam was rendered unconscious, limp to the touch when dragged like an animal whose been injured or dead.

Otherwise, what felt like minutes, Miriam finally had the strength to open her heavy lidded eyes, cold as they are blue. Her hair were still wild and unkempt, clotted with the mud and blood that dried. She felt morbid and mortified of how she felt physically. Aching all over and too hungry, Miriam figured that she was out much longer than a few minutes. She was warm at least, and the firelight from the lantern revealed that the room was… it had to be a bunker? No - not a bunker, but with the fabric walls and the slight breeze escaping the crack of the door, this had to be a tent.

_An old Quarantine Zone?_ Miriam studied the interior and structure even further. The glimpse of an iron tray of food nearby startled her; more than she's had in weeks! The assortment made her mouth water in a heartbeat. An abundance of bread swimming in butter and beans, noodles drenched in sauce and roasted meat of an unknown animal. Luckily there was a chipped mug nearby, cold to the touch - water - her throat screamed for any liquid, dehydrated for most of the day. Lungs sore and muscles wincing when Miriam's hand reached for the steaming tray.

The youth immediately began scarfing down the food, but stopped as the door opened and Lilith entered her line of vision. _To hell with her_ the voices whispered. Miriam listened and continued eating at an uneasy pace.

"Easy girl! Slow down or you'll hurl your guts up!" Miriam jumped at the order, but masked a glare that could stop anyone's heart, to kill them with a warning.

"Not my fault that I haven't had a proper meal in weeks…"

"I guess that punch to the face didn't teach you a thing or two about talking back then?"

To Lilith's satisfaction, Miriam kept her face neutral and her mouth shut, returning to the tray of rations. Chewing slower and more cautiously. All of her focus centered on the food. Yet the scraping of metal revealed Lilith pulling out a chair and sitting down, studying the youth's movements.

"I'm going to ask you some questions, and I want you to answer them. Any problem with that attitude of yours, I'll easily throw you to the infected… got it?"  
Staring at the woman's forehead, Miriam nodded, a subtle nod that meant trouble.

"Good, now I must ask, where are you from?"

"A community in the north, a place called Millerton."

"Why did you leave?"

"Some… Some organization of troops showed up."

Lilith arched her eyebrows in surprise and crossed her arms, "Impossible. All branches of government were shutdown when the riots and infected got out of hand."

"I'm telling you the truth! A damned rogue army that are turncoats from The United States Army up in Washington. Close to the Canadian border."  
The woman furrowed her eyes… with a hint of… unsureness? "Why did they take over your community…"

Not a question, a demand.

Miriam had no problem answering, but hesitated, each word harder to speak than the last "When… When they came… everything became hell. I mean - they claimed to help us, give us food, supplies… anything we wanted. But there was a price… a price that resulted in a massacre." The youth paused, those blue eyes of hers, a gateway to the despair she's endured. Staring at Lilith with a whisper, "There was blood _everywhere_." Sending a wave of gloom, deep within the the woman's bones.

"And why, exactly, were you traveling in my territory." Lilith breathed.

There was no emotion in Miriam's gaze "I won't answer that."

The opening of a door startled both of them; now in the threshold stood a man, disheveled and furious "He's dead!"

Lilith gave a look of disinterest and inquired, "Samuel, what the hell are you talking about? Whose dead?"

"Phyllis! We found him in the clearing, not too far from where we found the little hellhound! A pocket knife, lodged into his throat!"

Two sets of eyes were on the youth; one with resentment… and the other… the other craved for blood. Miriam's fit of trembling began at the pair.

"He was going to kill me! It was provoked and _I killed him_ out of self defense!"

Her cries and shrieks of terror echoed throughout the whole compound; onlookers passing by the tent with tense shoulders and sympathetic expressions. Their pity for the youth went unnoticed by the many who simply did not care. Another victim late in the night who would be nothing more than red mist and burnt hair. Smokey air to replace the pine, evening scent.

But what they did not know… was that Miriam preyed on her enemies like a wolf… and this community altogether would be her next achieved kill. A wraith brought into _their_ territory.

* * *

_A/N: Quite short I know, but I needed to write something out for Anarchy. Haven't wrote anything for it since... October or November I believe. Though this oneshot centers on the possibility if Lilith did decide to stay with the original founders of the Alpha-Omega militia group and if the rogue army of the North took down Millerton. But I hope you all enjoyed! _


End file.
